Holiday Cheese
by Nemi Mercer
Summary: Someone was on the bench, but Alfred didn't know who. minor USUK


It all started with cheese.

"Have some holiday cheddar!" Alfred exclaimed, holding a package of the said dairy. The woman in the doorway accepted it. "Um…thank you. Have a Merry Christmas." She shut the door, with a confused look on her face. "You too!" Alfred said.

He didn't understand why people made some weird faces at him whenever he handed out cheese. Maybe they were lactose and tolerant? Or they just didn't like cheese? Well, it doesn't matter since it's his tradition. And if they don't like it, giving it away was always an option.

"Well, I think that should be it..." He checked off the last address on a list, but then something caught his eye.

A snowflake fell to the ground, making Alfred look up at the sky. "Snow, huh?" a smile went upon his face. "Just in time for the holidays." It was December 1st, and he was wishing for snow, at least for everyday until January 3rd. A foolish wish, probably, but his hopes never fade.

He fist pumped into the air. "Now I'm feeling all excited!" Alfred marched home, passing by a bench with a man sleeping on it-

"What the hell?" Alfred blurted. "He could die out here!" He looked around. "I don't see any doctors offices or hospitals. But...I can't leave the poor guy here."

Alfred nodded to himself. "I just have to take him home. It's weird how he looks familar...and he has dried tears, too..." And so, being the relentless hero, Alfred continued marching with the weight of um...umm...Andrew on his back, yeah, Andrew sounds like a fine name. Once in a while he would clean his glasses because of the fog and remind himself of being the hero.

"It's amazing how things happen so fast," Alfred chuckled to himself. "One minute, I'm handing out cheese, and now I'm carrying a guy that was on the bench." he sneezed, covering it and continued home. "And is it just me, or are two caterpillar really attracted to his face?"

**-XXxxXX-**

Alfred laid Andrew on his long sofa-couch (that's what he called it, anyways) and checked his temperature. "Being out there for who knows how long, Andy might have a cold." Alfred got his thermometer, and poked it in his mouth before pulling it out. "101.3 degrees...he's really sick. I gotta wake him up!" After contemplating how to wake Andrew up, he took a deep breath, in and out, to steady himself.

"HEY WAKE UP, ANDY!" Alfred shouted shaking the latter. "WAKE U-"

Andrew flinched before finally waking up with those _bright green beautiful eyes_. Alfred held in his breath at the sight. "Hmm? Where am I?" he asked, with a dreamily voice. Andrew sat up, finally realizing that it wasn't his home. Looking up at Alfred, his demeanor changed when he asked with venom,"Who the _bloody hell_ are you?" The caterpillar scrunched together.

"I'm Alfred F. Jones-hey are you from United Ethnic High, Andy?" He said, now remembering where Andrew was from.

"Yes, and my name isn't Andy, or whatever you came up with. It's Arthur Kirkland." Arthur said, crossing his arms. "Oh, that explains why you look familiar. Well, sorry Artie, but you're a little sick. 101.2 degrees, actually." Alfred repiled.

"_Arthur. _And I'm perfectly fine..." Arthur stood up and started to walk weakly until his legs went back on him. He landed not on the floor but in the arms of-

"Are you sure you're alright, Artie?" Alfred asked. Arthur could feel his breathes on his neck and blushed even deeper, if that was even possible(it was from the cold, Arthur told himself mentally.) "Quite," the gentleman said, slightly gritting his teeth. "and it would be wonderful, no incredible if you could get off of me." Alfred let go and made sure Arthur was steady.

Arthur plopped himself on the couch because of how weak he felt. "Anyways, if you knew I was sick, why didn't you call the doctors' office?" Alfred sighed. "I couldn't find one in sight, so I thought the best thing was to bring you inside my warm home. I am the hero, of course."

"The hero."

"Yes. That's me."

"Anything heroic?"

"Other than this, lots."

"Did it have to do with giving change to someone who needed it?"

"Yes. Awesome, amirite?"

"That's called, 'being a good civilian.'"

Alfred huffed a little, not that Arthur found that cute. "Well, I did something good, and it made me feel like a hero!"he reasoned. Arthur nodded (but he still didn't believe him) and felt his body getting extremely hot.

"I feel like I'm on fire..." Arthur moaned, hugging himself. "It's not nice to boast about yourself, Artie." Alfed scolded.

"I'm not **bloody boasting, you wanker! My body is in a bursting bloody hell!" **

"I think I have some un-prescribed medicine," Alfred remembered. "Let me go get it. You'll stay here, right?"

"Oh yes, thanks for reminding me, I was going go ballroom dancing!" Arthur yelled, sarcastically. Alfred ignored him and went into the kitchen to get said item.

'_I know he's sick and all, but why the heck is he so grumpy? _' Alfred thought to himself, retreiving the medicine. Upon entering, he then saw Arthur nodding off into sleep. "Hey, Artie if you're going to sleep, you need your medicine first." Alfred said, pouring the righ amount into the cap provided.

"F-fine...give me it..." he said, groggily. "I have to give it to you myself." Alfred said, reminding him of his flu.

"Go on...then...hn..." Alfred had a slight tint across his face. "Okay..." he sat next to Arthur on the couch and lifted up his head slowly. '_He's breathing so deeply...'_ Alfred thought to himself. Arthur on the other hand, felt useless. The git was too slow!

"Give me the meds already...!" he said, with hesitation. Alfred nodded and poured the medicine into his mouth. When the cap was empty, he pulled and let Arthur rest.

It was weird to have someone out on a bench sleeping. How did he get there otherwise? When Alfred went out, no one was there, so maybe Arthur was waiting for someone but they didn't come? Well, whoever it was, they were going to have some serious explaining, with making Arthur cry.

Alfred then remembered he had to see his brother and went, leaving a note and some homemade soup by the coffee table in front of the couch Arthur was on.

* * *

Arthur fluttered his eyes open.

A note. Just a note with no more than six words.

_Had to leave for my brother_

-_Alfred_

He sighed. Well, that was certainly no way to handle a guest. Something that did catch his eye was the soup. Arthur put it up to his lips and slurped, noting the great taste.

"I wish he had made tea."

* * *

**I was never good at fluff or whatever anyways. More than 1,100 words. That's okay. Anyway, tell me what you think in the reviews.!**


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